


the story they will write someday

by certifiablemess



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fanfiction, Goldenhand, Mild Angst, Nerd X jock, The Blue Knight, goldenhand the just, idk we'll see how bad i procrastinate other things like sleeping and video editing lmao, jock x nerd, more tags will be added as the story (hopefully) progresses, the first chapter can be read as a one-shot but will probably be expanded on in the future, there's a nerd and there's a jock ok, whatever you wanna call it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23446303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiablemess/pseuds/certifiablemess
Summary: Jaime Lannister loved tales of knights. The Blue Knight in particular, but Goldenhand just as much because of her.Brienne Tarth was tall, and blonde, and fit – of course she was fit, she was the MVP of the girls' soccer team for three years running.And then they're paired together for an assignment on Knights of the Realm. And he wasn't about to sacrifice his grade for some meat-head who had universities lining up for her athletic talents. This wouldn't be an easy A after all.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 55
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if on cue, the Blue Knight herself walked in. Or, at least, the closest to her physical reincarnate as Jaime had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is all kit's fault (and i love her for it also)  
> again, dedicated to the 🎺🎺🎺 gc who inspire and motivate me to make content in any and every medium
> 
> first of all THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for the positive responses to _all this to say..._ i am truly flattered and floored at the lovely comments that people have made so thank you, thank you, THANK YOU
> 
> and listen i saw a thread on twitter about the romantic tropes people have experienced in their real life relationships and thus this ficlet (possibly fic?) was born.
> 
> this is the jock x nerd high school au that nobody asked for. you're welcome.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> hmu on twitter @serjaimelannstr

> _She brandished her sword, the weapon glinting in the sunlight. The blade hovered at his throat where he laid in the dust. He used his false hand to brace him against the glare of her armour that shone as blue as the sky above them._
> 
> _"Do you yield, ser?" She asked. Any fool could hear her feminine tone, though muffled by the battered bascinet, but most men were something greater than fools. He was more than most men._
> 
> _"Do what you must," Goldenhand growled._
> 
> _"It is what I must do that ails me." Blue Knight pressed the sword deeper on his neck, a drop of blood painting its tip._
> 
> _He flashed her a grin as blinding as the sun itself, as scathing as the strike of his blade in battle._
> 
> _"Have you grown fond of me, ser?" He asked, his good hand wrapping around her ankle that stood firm at his side. "Or should I call you_ my lady _?"_
> 
> _She growled, drew her sword high in the air, and_ | 

"Alright, everyone settle down," Mr Luwin called the class to order. 

Jaime hit save on his work – another chapter of his rapidly expanding historical fanfiction – and closed the tab just as quickly. He always sat at the back of the room, so as not to tempt wandering and taunting eyes, but this was the one class he truly enjoyed. His mind couldn't focus on Algebra, or Chemistry, or anything that involves explicit sets of rules to discover the unknown. That's why History was his favourite; because everything is already written in stone, and what was unknown wasn't begging to be known but, rather, open to interpretation. 

Plus, he really loved tales of knights. The Blue Knight in particular, but Goldenhand just as much because of her.

As if on cue, the Blue Knight herself walked in. Or, at least, the closest to her physical reincarnate as Jaime had ever seen.

Brienne Tarth was tall, and blonde, and fit – of course she was fit, she was the MVP of the girls’ soccer team for three years running. If the team’s track record this season was anything to be trusted, she would be earning the title a fourth and final time in their high school career. Thanks to her agility on the pitch and the advent of feminism, Brienne wasn’t as scorned as Blue Knight who, when out-of-armour, was mocked for being more Warrior than Maiden. Neither of them were particularly lucky in the gene pool though, even Jaime could see that. But her eyes shone as blue as a polished sword and, the few times he met her gaze, he had looked away just as quickly. There was no way someone like her, someone relatively high in the social hierarchy and – for lack of a better word – a jock, would look his way for any reason other than to mess with him. He supposed he had earned it. 

She muttered a quick apology for being late and sat in the middle of the room next to Sansa Stark, the redhead that he had come to conclude was her best friend. Sansa was adored by everyone, it seemed. Merely being associated with her would earn you kind conversation with people who knew her, or knew of her, about just how lovely she was. It came as no surprise to Jaime that Brienne would be close to someone like Sansa.

The chatter in the room died down and Mr Luwin put up slides for their next topic: Feudalism in Early Westeros.

_Perfect_ , Jaime thought. This would be a huge help to his personal project and he would already be ahead of the curve, having more than foundational knowledge on the topic. This would be an easy A.

“For your final assessment,” Mr Luwin said, clicking to the next slide. “Instead of an exam, you will be working in pairs to produce a 10-minute presentation on an assigned aspect of feudalistic society.”

Jaime frowned at Luwin's announcement. No final exam? A presentation? In pairs? He could always rely on himself to get the best grade in the class, an achievement which had earned him several awards in the past, but how in the Seven Hells was he supposed to keep that position if his partner – he shuddered – was a dim-witted jock?

“Do we get to choose who we work with?” Someone at the front of the room asked.

Luwin shook his head. “No. But, before class ends today, I’ll pair you up with your partners so you can get started.”

Groans and under-the-breath sighs sounded across the room and Jaime was glad he wasn’t alone in his disdain. Luwin tried to calm the objections of a few headstrong students, but there was nothing that would change the assignment conditions. Why cry about it?

“Now,” Luwin said, silencing the lingering whispers and hisses. He clicked again to another slide. “Who wants to tell me what feudalism means?"

With 10 minutes of class remaining, Luwin partnered everyone up as promised, reading the list off of a clipboard. Once each pair was announced, they were to sit together for the rest of class and discuss their topics. Jaime crossed as many of his extremities as humanly possible hoping that, from the pool of remaining unpaired students in the class, he would be working with someone like Sam Tarly who had a decent academic record or, Hells, even Stannis Baratheon with his cold-shouldered attitude but admirable tenacity for accuracy.

“Jaime Lannister and…” Luwin nodded at him, flipped the page on his clipboard, and looked to the middle of the room. "Brienne Tarth. Your presentation will be on Knights of the Realm and their associated duties."

Jaime’s stomach plummeted. He cursed himself for his earlier thoughts having come to fruition. At least the topic was right up his alley; perhaps it wouldn’t take much to convince Brienne to let him do all the work so they would both receive stellar marks for his thorough research. He wasn’t about to sacrifice his grade for some meat-head who had universities lining up for her athletic talents.

As if she knew he was looking at the back of her head, trying to figure out how to tackle this hurdle, she turned in her seat and offered him the hint of a smile. His stare met hers and he felt himself smile back against his will; those eyes were going to be a problem. He blinked and looked away, down at his laptop and keysmashed some nonsense into his notes, so distracted that he didn’t notice her pull up a chair beside him. He was expecting to have to move himself over to her but, no. Brienne came to him.

He quickly shoved his belongings to one side of the desk, giving her room to put down her notebook. She was still smiling at him – just barely, but he assumed that was just how she smiled given her... well, her facial assets. She shoved the sleeves of her team jacket up her arms, the freckled skin on the back of her hand rippling as she adjusted her grip on her pen; the way he imagined Blue Knight’s hand would wrap around the hilt of a sword. He closed his eyes and wished the image away.

“Hi, Jaime,” Brienne said, biting her lip as if she were nervous. He couldn’t fathom why.

“Hi.” Jaime winced at his own curt tone. He let the feeling go with a shake of his head. “Look, it’s our final year of high school and I just want to make it out of here with my grades untarnished. So, you don’t have to lift a finger, I’ll put this whole thing together and send you the script before we present, and we can both get the grades we want. Cool?"

She frowned, her once friendly look at him hardened to ice. “I’m sorry, what?"

“I can do this whole thing on my own, I’m used to it.” He said, already typing up a presentation outline despite her. “You just have to show up and look— and read the script.”

Brienne crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “What makes you think I won’t pull my weight?”

Jaime’s eyes flicked down to the team logo on her jacket breast, and raised an eyebrow at her. 

She scoffed. She sat forward and rested her elbows on the desk, inching close enough that she could use her slight height advantage against him, to look down on him. 

“You think just because I play sport that I’m not as smart as you?” She asked, low and with a searing glare.

Jaime rolled his eyes and continued typing. “I think your attentions are divided. Unlike you, I’m going to give this assignment everything I have.”

In a move he should have expected, Brienne splayed a hand on the lid of his laptop and lowered it enough that he could no longer type or see the screen, forcing him to look at her. His lips curled as he withdrew his hands from the keyboard, crossing them in his lap below the desk, and he folded. He looked at her. She did not look happy.

“I could do this assignment just as well as you, with or without your help.” She hissed through her teeth.

“I’d like to see you try.” He scoffed, sneering right back. “Are you sure it won’t be _too much_ for you, what with your _rigorous_ training schedule?"

Before she could snap at him further, the bell rang for the end of class and Jaime snatched his laptop from her lingering grip, grabbed his bag from his feet, and dashed out. This wouldn’t be an easy A after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this fic, jaime isn't dyslexic but he just struggles a Lot with math/analytical data/numbers in general, so he's into more word-based or creative endeavours – like fanfiction!
> 
> catch me reacting to the beginning of tv canon Jaime x brienne here 🤪 https://youtu.be/3QxtjaLXIXo
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated! thank you all for reading and i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy x


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Goldenhand is a great pick, by the way,” she said, without meeting his gaze. “We can use him as an example in our presentation."  
> He blinked and, without thinking, he heard himself saying, “I prefer the Blue Knight, myself.”  
> She smiled at him then, as faintly as she did when they were assigned to each other last week. “Yeah, Blue Knight is pretty awesome too.”  
> “Do you actually know about them, or are you just trying to prove you know how to read a textbook?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i am setting an unrealistic precedent for myself updating so quickly like this, but this chapter just begged to be written so .... ta-da! 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> hmu on twitter @serjaimelannstr

> _Between them crackled a kindling campfire. The sun had set long ago, but she had not wanted to settle at an inn; he was far too recognisable, and as a pair they were far too conspicuous._
> 
> _She had kept his destrier, let him ride with his good hand bound to the bridle. She had half a mind to gag him – he deserved it, for all the depravity he usually spoke – but as the beaming sun laid to rest, from high in the sky to the horizon, he remained silent. Unbearably silent._
> 
> _  
> "I wasn't aware I cut out your tongue," she remarked, unsaddling the horses._
> 
> _He sat by the fire, staring blankly into the flames. She still wore her helmet, in an effort to avoid his piercing stare, but removed his when she disarmed him. It made him easier to read when combined with his snarky comments. But not now; not when he remained silent._
> 
> _  
> "Come now, ser," she grunted, dropping the saddlebags to the ground. "I've bested you in combat before."_
> 
> _"There is more to knighthood than beating crippled old men to the ground." He muttered. His good hand, now untethered from his horse, wrung around his right forearm where the gold hand met his wrist._
> 
> _She ignored it. "Is that why they call you Goldenhand the Just?"_
> 
> _"You know why they call me that." He snapped. The red of the flames cast shadows on his face as dark as his glare. "Or have you forgotten me, ser?"_
> 
> _"To forget you implies that I once knew you." She scoffed. She sighed as she sat down, opposite him; it felt like a safe distance. Safe enough to remove her armour, starting with her helmet. She sighed again as she lifted it from her face, breathing in the fresh air. She looked at him, met his gaze at last. "But I didn't, did I?"  
> _
> 
> _  
> Her eyes were boundless in the moonlight, dancing with constellations. As blue as the waters of her home, as blue as the day he first saw them. He could not help the gasp he took._
> 
> _  
> "I'm in no mood for riddles," he managed to mutter as he looked back into the simmering fire between them, away. He had to look away._
> 
> _"It's not a riddle when you know the answer," she said quietly._
> 
> _  
> He swallowed the lump that grew in his throat. When he looked at her once more – unwillingly, yet unable to stop himself – she was staring into the flickering heat as he did._
> 
> _  
> "My lady, you and I remember Winterfell very diff_ |

“Are you researching Goldenhand the Just?”

Jaime slammed his laptop shut. “No.”

  
Brienne jumped at the sudden noise. He looked up and saw her widened stare, his cheeks reddening to match hers. He hadn’t expected her – or anyone – to approach him, much less get to class early. He wasn’t even sure the first bell had rung to signal the end of lunch. A quick glance around the room confirmed his suspicions; they were alone.

  
“Oh.” Brienne dropped her bag on the desk beside him. Again, another move he hadn’t expected. “So, what are you working on?"

“Nothing. Why are you here so early?” Jaime asked quickly.

She frowned and nodded at his protective huddle over his computer. “I could ask you the same thing."

He scrambled to sit up straight. “I didn’t think you were the type to show up to class early.”

“You don’t seem to think much of me at all.”   
  


_Maybe not of you, but Blue Knight…_ Jaime cleared his throat.  
  


“I only mean that you probably have better things to do.” He waved a hand at the open door, where voices and laughter of lunchtime bustle flooded in from the hallway. 

Brienne shrugged. “Well, I knew you liked to be early so I thought we could work on the assignment."

His eyes flicked over to her, brow furrowed. In a small murmur, he asked, “You noticed?”

She nodded, the faintest colour tinting her cheeks. She sat down at the desk beside him and flipped through her notebook, smoothing out a fresh page with her palm.

"Goldenhand is a great pick, by the way,” she said, without meeting his gaze. “We can use him as an example in our presentation."

He blinked and, without thinking, he heard himself saying, “I prefer the Blue Knight, myself.”

She smiled at him then, as faintly as she did when they were assigned to each other last week. “Yeah, Blue Knight is pretty awesome too.”

“Do you actually know about them, or are you just trying to prove you know how to read a textbook?” 

  
Her smile fell. The friendly glimmer in her bright eyes disappeared as she scribbled on a blank page of her notebook.

  
“As if I have any need to impress you.” She muttered with a scowl.

Jaime winced at her bitter tone. “I didn’t say you did.”

“Well, for the record, I don’t. Just as the Blue Knight had no need to impress Goldenhand.”   
  


She looked up at the sound of his snort, her blue eyes boring into him like steel.  
  


“Please." Jaime rolled his eyes. “If anyone was trying to impress anyone, it was Goldenhand to Blue.”

“The Blue Knight was always impressed by Goldenhand.” Brienne argued, stopping her mindless scribbling to look him in the eye as she spoke. "He was the reason she wanted to be a knight in the first place." 

“Yes, but he had to redeem himself before she truly saw him as honourable."

Brienne shook her head. “That’s not true. The Winterfell archives say–“

“That she was madly in love with him and was so disenchanted that she ignored his status as a Kingslayer, yes, I–”

“What I was going to say,” Brienne cut him off with a glare that, under normal circumstances, Jaime would have shied away from. But it only made him listen more intently as she continued, “is that the archives say that she defended his honour to all those who questioned his loyalties. Yeah, she did it out of love but, even before she realised her feelings for him, she did it out of respect for the man she grew up admiring."  
  


Jaime opened his mouth to rebut, but nothing came out. Just a sigh as she smirked. He leaned back in his chair and nodded at her, a small smile pulling at his lips.  
  


“So you do know your stuff.” He said, surprised at the hint of giddiness in his own voice. 

Brienne rolled her eyes, a playful glint in the bright blue hues. “I told you so.”  
  


A small chuckle bubbled out of his chest. He seemed to be surprising himself a lot today; or maybe it was just that Brienne knew as much as he did about such a specific topic that made his heart flutter.  
  


“And you believe Blue was a woman?” He asked. He had to be sure. When she nodded, his smile broke into a grin.

“People who deny it are either blind or sexist.” She made a sound of disgust on the latter descriptor. “As if a woman couldn’t also be a warrior.”

“She was the Maiden and the Warrior in one,” he mused. 

“Exactly!” She exclaimed louder than she intended, judging by her ever-growing blush. It suited her freckled cheeks nicely, Jaime thought.  
  


He could have gushed an embarrassing amount about the Blue Knight he admired so much, but the bell rang before he could. Their classmates began to filter in including Sansa, who threw Brienne a confused look but sat in front of her nonetheless.  
  


“Backseat bandit today, Bri?” She asked with a perfectly arched brow.

Brienne blushed and gave Jaime a small smile before turning to her friend. “I like the view from here.”

  
He left the girls to their conversation and the growing commotion in the room all but faded into the background. He opened his laptop again, quickly adjusting his work into a smaller window.

> _“My lady, you and I remember Winterfell very differently,” Goldenhand muttered in reply._
> 
> _She looked at him through the burning fire, sapphires meeting emeralds through crimson embers._
> 
> _  
> “I remember it just the same as you, my lord.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments always appreciated!
> 
> catch me reacting to the beginning of tv canon Jaime x brienne here 🤪 https://youtu.be/3QxtjaLXIXo
> 
> i hope you're all staying safe and healthy x


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had his fanfiction open but he couldn’t think. His fingers froze as they hovered over the keyboard, twitching at his every thought but never typing anything substantial. He kept glancing out the floor-to-ceiling window walls of the study room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but that did nothing to help his frazzled state of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i am updating again do NOT get used to it (i mean it this time) 
> 
> hmu on twitter @serjaimelannstr

They decided to meet in the library at lunch the next week, before their History class. Jaime spent most of his time there, researching, or studying, or taking a break from the scrutiny. He didn’t mind being alone. Sometimes his friend, Addam Marbrand, would join him but his visits didn't last long. Addam was still on the boys’ soccer team, after all, unlike Jaime.

Brienne didn’t seem to mind being swept away from lunch; in fact, she was the one who suggested it. He almost wished she hadn’t because now, as he waited for her to arrive in their booked study room, he found himself unable to concentrate. He had his fanfiction open but he couldn’t think. His fingers froze as they hovered over the keyboard, twitching at his every thought but never typing anything substantial. He kept glancing out the floor-to-ceiling window walls of the study room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but that did nothing to help his frazzled state of mind.

What was _happening_? Writing was his escape, the one thing he could do without hesitation, without question. And now he could barely form a sentence about his favourite historical figures, Goldenhand and the Blue Knight, because… of what? He had time to kill while waiting for Brienne – who reminded him so much of the Blue Knight that she was who he pictured when he wrote her – so why couldn’t he just—  
  


“Sorry, I’m late!” Brienne burst through the door and Jaime startled, whipped his head across to look at her.

  
She was huffing ever so slightly, as if she ran from the locker room all the way across campus to the library – which she probably did. Her gym bag was slung across her body, wearing her loose (yet simultaneously form-fitting) soccer uniform, her player number – 8 – printed on the left side of her chest. Her strong and maddeningly long legs were on display in those shorts, the tube socks she wore leaving little to the imagination.

Not that Jaime noticed. 

  
“It’s fine.” He cleared his throat at the sound of his own voice cracking. He quickly snapped his stare back at his laptop but that did nothing to stop the heat gathering in his cheeks.

Brienne sighed and kicked her bag under the table. With a thud, she put an encyclopedia-sized textbook on the desk and gave the cover a solid pat. He hadn't even noticed that she was holding it.  
  


“I thought it might be helpful,” she said with a small smile, leaning on the desk with both hands. “It’s an extended look into The White Book."

Jaime’s eyes widened. “What?” He asked and raised himself from his seat ever so slightly, peering over his screen.

“Yep.” Brienne bit her lip to hide her grin but, Hells, if this was what she said it was then she should show her full pride.

“No way!” Jaime jumped up and walked around the desk towards her and the book. She backed away and let him stare at the tome in wonder. He ran his fingers down the ridged spine, traced over the gold-pressed text on the hardcover; it was real. It was real, and it was right here in their hands. He looked up and met her excited eyes that twinkled with her bitten smile, and a laugh stuttered out of him. "I didn’t even know we had this in the library.” 

“We don’t,” she shook her head. “It’s on loan from the museum where my Dad works.”

  
All Jaime could do was nod at Brienne and stare at the book. He couldn’t seem to find his words at all today.

  
"We have it for a week, we just have to be super careful with it," Brienne said, sitting down in the empty chair beside her.

Again, Jaime nodded. "Of course, I–"

  
He meant to drag his eyes away from The White Book and look at her as he spoke, but she had reached down under the table to rummage through her bag, exposing the slightest sliver of the pale and freckled small of her back as she moved.

She looked strong. And so did her long, _long_ legs. Not that he noticed.

  
"Jaime?"

  
He blinked. She was sitting up again and stared at him. Probably because he was staring at her.

  
"Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you wanted to take it home with you tonight?" She nodded at the book. She glanced down at herself and tugged at the hem of her jersey. "I have a game tonight, and I don't want to risk it getting damaged in the locker room." 

He nodded and went back to his seat across from her. "Yeah, okay. I mean- of course, I... yeah." 

  
Did he have a fever? He could have sworn that his face was on fire. And, if anything, Brienne's face lighting up at his stammering made it worse. He ran a hand through his hair, briefly touching his palm to his forehead. It wasn't a fever. _What in the Seven Hells was happening today?_

  
"Who are you playing tonight?" He asked in an attempt to distract her from, well, himself.

  
Even from his periphery, he saw Brienne freeze at his question. Still, she bit her lip, her eyes cast down at The White Book, her long fingers running along the edges of the cover.

  
"It's an away game." She said quietly.

"Ah. I always hated those." He hummed.

She nodded but, still, she refused to look at him. Her thick lips twisted into a grimace, then a frown, then she squeezed her eyes shut. 

He frowned too. "Brienne?"

  
At the call of her name, her eyes opened and bore right into his, watery and blue, and filled with an emotion he couldn't find the words to describe.

  
"We're playing Dragonstone." She said. 

  
Jaime's mouth ran dry. He rested a hand on his right knee as it twitched. It had been years, but the name still made his bones ache. 

  
"I'm sorry." Brienne murmured, biting her lip again. He swore she would make it bleed if she pressed her big teeth down on it any harder. 

"For what?" He snapped, wincing at how his tone stung even himself.

"I shouldn't have brought it up." She sighed and shook her head. "I know you used to play."

He scoffed. "Then you know the Dragonstone team isn't as vicious as they used to be."

  
As if the Gods saw him struggling – the bile churning in the pits of his stomach, his breaths coming shorter, the burning in the corners of his eyes – the bell rang. He slammed his laptop shut and shoved it in his bag, just as he did when he stormed away from Brienne that first week in class.

  
"I, uh, I left something. In my locker." He muttered, as if saying it quietly made it any better than a poor excuse. His brow furrowed as he rapidly blinked away the growing sting in his eyes. "I should go." 

"Jaime, I-" Brienne spun in her chair to follow him as he brushed past her.

"I'll see you in class." He uttered tightly. He scurried out the door just in time before his vision blurred, rubbing a hand over his face to clear it away. 

When Brienne walked into class, he was already there, staring at the cursed blank page and blinking cursor. She walked up to him and he dreaded that she would sit down next him again – but she didn't. Instead, she put The White Book down on the desk beside him, the desk where she sat the week before.

He glanced at the book that would be their most useful reference – the book that he stupidly forgot to take in his blind rush out of the study room – and looked up at her where she stood. She was frowning but not with malice, or annoyance, or all the ways he's grown used to since he left the boys' soccer team. Instead, her gaze was gentle. Concerned. Apologetic.

  
"It's yours." She reminded him, offering a small smile.

He could do nothing but stare. And nod. And, in a blink, she had turned around and sat down at her usual seat in the middle of the classroom. 

***

> _They had been riding for weeks, with no apparent destination. Every time he had a final stop in mind, the Blue Knight would wake him the next day to continue on their journey. Each detour was longer than the last and, somewhere along the way, she decided to free him of his riding restraints. A strange occurrence, no doubt, but it made their travels go no quicker._
> 
> _They rode up a small slope and, when they reached flat ground, she stopped. She dismounted her horse and let it roam, feeding on the wilting grass at its feet. He watched her assess the natural wall before them, a large rock that decayed with convenient gripping points. She paid him no mind as she climbed up, with far too much ease for someone in a full set of armour._
> 
> _He knew her greatest virtue was her brevity but he frowned anyway. He dismounted and followed her climbing path as best he could with one good hand. He looked up and saw she had stopped, sat on the peak of the formation and just… stared._   
>    
> 
> 
> _“Where exactly are we going?” Goldenhand asked. With a final grunt and what upper body strength he could muster, he pulled himself up to sit beside her._
> 
> _She kept staring, blue eyes focused yet calm, staring._
> 
> _He frowned still, until he turned his head and saw all that she saw._   
>    
> 
> 
> _They were perched high upon a rocky precipice, somewhere at the edge of the Vale. From here, the deep green land seemed endless as it melded into the sparkling cerulean sea, as if they were never apart, never separate entities._
> 
> _  
> It was strange, how two things could be so different yet incomplete without the other._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments always greatly appreciated! again, curb your expectations for updates – it'll save us all a LOT of pressure. 
> 
> catch me reacting to the beginning of tv canon Jaime x brienne here 🤪 https://youtu.be/3QxtjaLXIXo
> 
> i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy x


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is that–" Brienne started, her voice muffled by her hand that masked her awe. Her eyes shone as she stared at the artefacts on the mantle, taking the most delicate step forward as if her very presence would disturb the room. 
> 
> Jaime couldn't help his beaming grin. "It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember what i said about curbing your expectations for updates? yeah
> 
> IN ANY CASE here is a much-sooner-than-expected update that's roughly twice the word count of a regular update. don't say i never give you anything 🤪
> 
> also (i should've said this a few chapters ago but) THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS LIL FIC!! i adore and appreciate all of your comments so very much. your words power my words and i only hope that my writing is worth the wait.
> 
> enjoy!

They spent the next week dancing around each other; not exactly avoiding, but not jumping at the chance to talk either. Jaime could hardly blame Brienne for distancing herself. He was the one that stormed out over a blemish in his past, and it wasn’t her fault that he did what he did.

And yet she was still kind to him. He brought the book back the next day, after their failed library session, and she told him to hold onto it for the weekend. If it were anyone else, he would have assumed she meant to have him do all the work after all, save her the trouble of reading herself. But in her small yet all too familiar smile, the calm blue of her eyes, and the soft-spoken melody of her voice as she said, “Hold onto it for me, like how the Blue Knight kept Oathkeeper for Goldenhand”, Jaime knew Brienne had only the best intentions in mind.

It was with those same intentions that he invited her over to his house the next weekend, to make up for wasting her time in the library. That way, there would be no distractions; his father would be at work in the city, his sister away at boarding school in Lannisport, and only his little brother would be home but he was old enough to take care of himself. And Jaime couldn’t very well storm out of his own house, could he?

Brienne said she would be over at midday. So, Jaime had spent the morning tidying the house and answering a litany of Tyrion’s curious questions.

  
“What’s her name again?” His brother asked, unhelpfully lounged in an armchair watching him clean.

“Brienne.” Jaime answered. When did the coffee table get so cluttered? He wondered. Nobody even used this movie room except for Tyrion, and he only ever had snacks with him.

Tyrion hummed. “You’ve never had a girl over before.”

Jaime sighed, and stood tall to look at his brother who waggled his eyebrows suggestively, tilting his head innocently. Thirteen year olds really were the worst.

“She’s my History partner.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet she is.” Tyrion muttered.

Jaime grabbed a cushion from the couch beside him and threw it at his brother, hitting him square in the face. “Will you behave? It’s just an assignment. After this is done, I’ll never have another girl over again.”

Tyrion snorted.

“What?” 

“Isn’t she, like, the star soccer player?” 

“Yeah. And?” Jaime frowned, dropping on the couch with a sigh.

“And…” Tyrion threw the pillow back with a roll of his eyes. “...have you looked in the mirror?”

With a groan, Jaime landed a fist in the cushion as he carefully arranged it beside him. “I don’t think—“

  
_Ding-dong!_

  
Jaime shot a look at his brother who raised his hands in surrender.   
  


“Behave.”

“I will if you will.” Tyrion shrugged.  
  


Jaime huffed and headed for the foyer, his face warming even more at his brother’s smirk. He quickly wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and, with a deep breath in, he opened the door.

He had never seen Brienne shocked before. To be fair, he had never seen much of Brienne at all before this assignment. Sure, he'd seen her in passing – biting back her laughs as if she would blind people with her toothy smile, and doing drills on the field every afternoon when the girls' team was first established, and, really, she was just a hard figure to miss given her stature. But her wide-eyed stare at her surroundings – at his house – was a wonder in itself. Gods, he had never seen eyes so clear before.   
  


"Hi," she squeaked.

Jaime smiled. "Hi."   
  


Her hands clutched tightly on the strap of her satchel, her knuckles turning as white as her lips and cheeks were pink. For once, she wasn't wearing her team jacket. Instead, she wore a pale blue sweater that made her eyes pop, as if they didn't command all of his attention on their own.

Remembering his manners, Jaime held the door wide open and waved her in.   
  


"We can go work in the library." He said, pointing up at the winding staircases behind him. "Do you want anything? Water? Juice? I think we have some chips and salsa in the pantry."   
  


Brienne gaped and looked around the vast entryway, almost spinning as she did.  
  


"Your house is beautiful." She breathed, admiring the chandelier hanging above them.

Jaime looked up too, and shrugged. "It's a real pain to clean, though."  
  


His smile grew wider at the small laugh she gave.  
  


"Come on, I'll give you a quick tour."   
  


He led her under the second-floor landing, between the staircases, to where the kitchen rested on the right. Jaime opened the door to the large walk-in pantry, and asked her again if she wanted anything; she shook her head in a silent no. He gestured out the windowed walls that connected the two wings of the building and flooded the area with natural light, offering panoramic views of the freshly-renovated deck, the in-ground pool and hot tub, and the expansive greenery in the backyard. The left wing began with the formal dining room, that could have been considered a hallway in and of itself. The table was far too long for a family that rarely had dinner together, much less voluntarily stayed in the same room as each other for more than 10 seconds. Passing the dining room, he showed Brienne the living area that was just as grand and impersonal as the spaces before it. Finally, they looped back around to the foyer and arrived at the movie room.  
  


"My brother is the only one home, but I've told him not to bother us," Jaime said, shoving the soundproofed sliding doors open to the home cinema. 

  
Tyrion was slouched in the middle of the couch, aimlessly flipping through the channels. Jaime shot him one more warning look before stepping aside to let Brienne in.   
  


"Tyrion, this is Brienne." Jaime said. 

Brienne waved with a shy smile. Her eyes danced around the room the same way they did around the rest of the house, glazed over ever so slightly.

Before his brother could utter a word – crude or otherwise – Jaime continued, "We'll be in the library upstairs. Are you going to be okay on your own?" 

"I'll be fine." Tyrion nodded solemnly. He flashed a winning grin at Brienne and, with a wink, added, "You two have fun up there."   
  


Jaime was sure that if his glare wasn't doing the job, the heat radiating from his face was concentrated enough to burn Tyrion alive. He slammed the doors shut and turned to Brienne, who stared down at their feet with eyes as wide as before, but now for a completely different reason. Her face was as red as he expected his own was, and all he could do was mutter a useless, "sorry". She was kind enough to nod in response, even if she couldn't meet his eyes.

Thankfully, they made it upstairs without further incident but neither less flustered. The lingering awkwardness wasn't lost on Jaime, though he was mostly just confused as to why it was there to begin with. Suggestive comments only meant something if there was something to suggest. Which there wasn't. Not at all. And he knew Tyrion only meant to tease him anyway. So why did he suddenly feel the need to shy away from Brienne again, when there was nothing to suggest in an innocent joke from his kid brother? And why could he suddenly feel his pulse hammering through his entire body?

_Focus_ , he scolded himself as they passed his bedroom – which was _definitely_ not part of the tour, thank you very much. At the end of the hall, they stopped at the double doors that were painted a muted gold, the engravings and embellishments flaunting what the regal colour didn't. With a firm push, Jaime opened the doors and he swore he heard Brienne gasp as they entered.

Each wall lined with stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks of books of varying topics. At the heart of the large room was a round table, as grand as the ones that Jaime always imagined knights of old would gather around. Next to the cushioned bay window stood a full-sized set of armour, gleaming brightly in the sharp midday sun. And hung above the fireplace on the back wall was a flag, bearing the ancestral Lannister sigil, and two crossed swords – one with a ruby at the pommel, the other a lion's head.  
  


"Is that–" Brienne started, her voice muffled by her hand that masked her awe. Her eyes shone as she stared at the artefacts on the mantle, taking the most delicate step forward as if her very presence would disturb the room. 

Jaime couldn't help his beaming grin. "It is."  
  


He trailed behind her as she all but floated over to the swords, her mouth gaping in wonder as she admired the instruments on the wall. Her blue eyes looked back at them in the silver metal, her head tilting ever so slightly as she ran her gaze along the blades. She bit her bottom lip, chewed it a furious pink, and furrowed her brow as she leaned in closer – but not close enough, he could tell. 

So he reached up on his tip-toes and, with both hands, lifted the larger sword from its mounting; her eyes followed it all the way. Brienne mirrored his steps as he turned to face her, the flat edge of the blade resting in his left hand and the curved, leonine hilt in his other, and held the blade out to her. She tore her eyes away from the sword and looked up at him.  
  


“I can’t–”

“It’s okay, the blade isn’t edged,” Jaime smiled, nodded, and waved it closer to her still. “It’s not the real thing, but a well-made replica is just as good, right?”  
  


She blinked, her blonde eyelashes fluttering so rapidly that he felt it in his chest. She locked her gaze with his, as if asking if he were certain, so he nodded again and this time, when she looked down at the sword between them, her hands came up to accept it. If their fingers brushed as he passed her the hilt, Jaime didn’t notice. What he did notice was how easily she wielded the weapon. Brienne lifted it to her eyes, inspected it at every angle, and when she was done admiring the handiwork, she held the sword in her right hand and swung it gently as if it were weightless, as if it belonged in her grip, as if it had always belonged with her.   
  


“Oathkeeper.” She sighed, her lips curving into a smile as she stared down at the sword.  
  


Jaime could do little else but smile too. With relative ease, he took the shorter sword – Widow’s Wail – from the mantle and lightly tossed it in his hand, adjusting his grip. He watched Brienne flex her wrist with Oathkeeper in her grasp, her smile growing wider with every swift motion. All she was missing was the armour, then she would be the Blue Knight in all her glory. She didn’t even need the armour, if he was being honest. 

When she pointed Oathkeeper at the ground again, Jaime tapped it with his own blade, the quietest clash ringing through the library. Brienne jumped at the brief contact, her face twisted into a scowl.  
  


“What are you doing?!” She exclaimed, drawing Oathkeeper behind her protectively. “You’re going to damage them!”

Jaime bit down hard on his lip, trying not to laugh at the fury in her cheeks and her horrified glare. He arched an eyebrow at her, and asked, “You think I’ve lived with these replicas my whole life, knowing what I know about Goldenhand and Blue, and not tried them out for myself?”

“That’s not the point–”

He rolled his eyes and swung his sword at her half-heartedly, expecting to be met with thin air as she stepped back but– _oh_.  
  


Brienne had stepped back. And as she did, she brought Oathkeeper in front of her to parry him, their swords kissing once again. He smirked and swung again, and again, slowly inching her backwards with every hit, and she parried each of his movements with matching force. She threw a glance behind her as her back foot hit the bottom tier of the bookshelves that lined the walls. When she looked back at him, her growing smile was quickly bitten away.  
  


“We shouldn’t.” She said, dropping her shoulders.

Jaime paused, and nodded. “You’re right, we shouldn’t,” he agreed. “I couldn’t possibly give this presentation with the guilt of your loss hanging over me.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. “My loss?”

“Well, clearly I’m the better swordsperson.” He shrugged. “I’m just saving your pride here.”  
  


Her glare had not softened, her blue eyes freezing him to the core with her sneer. And when she slashed Oathkeeper against his sword, her full strength unleashed, Jaime had to laugh. Eventually, they were both laughing, giggling like schoolchildren as they chased each other around the vast library swinging their swords at each other in an endless game of cat-and-mouse. 

By the time Brienne’s alarm went off to remind her that it was time to go home, they had made little progress on their assignment. Okay, they had made no progress. But the spark in her eyes as they fought, and the blush that painted her pale, freckled skin as she puffed with exhaustion, and the way they disarmed each other – both physically and in a way that let them be completely carefree, completely themselves as they danced around each other – all of it was worth the distraction. Jaime’s knee barely bothered him all afternoon despite their running and lunging, but the inevitable ache the next morning would still be worth it.

Even Tyrion’s remarks about the noises he heard through the soundproofed walls of the movie room were worth it. 

***

> _They made camp beside a small river, away from the inns and days away from the nearest town. She still had not told him where they were headed, and he was beginning to suspect she wasn’t quite sure of their destination herself._

> _Since they left the Vale, she had become a mute. He had thrown her own taunt back at her, but still she said nothing. It was as if they were adventuring through the Riverlands hundreds of moons ago, strangers forced together by duty._
> 
> _Some things never changed, he supposed. But so much had changed, and it had all been for nought._
> 
> _With nightfall came more silence. Silence as they laid out their bedrolls, silence as they cooked their game, silence as they watched the dying embers turn to ash. And then, as he was on the verge of slumber, he heard rustling from where she rested._
> 
> _He slept on his side, faced away from her. Then came footsteps towards him, her shadow casted before him, and as she crouched down beside him with a long, shining object in hand, he stirred._  
>    
> 
> 
> _"How many times have I told you?" Goldenhand growled._
> 
> _The Blue Knight froze as she laid Oathkeeper at his side. She said nothing._
> 
> _He pushed himself up by his good hand, his face rising to meet hers, mere inches from her owlish, moonlit gaze._
> 
> _"Keep it." He hissed. He shook his head and muttered, "Stubborn wench."_  
>    
> 
> 
> _Even in the dark, he could see her skin flare into a bright red._
> 
> _His shoulders shook at the sight of her, short huffs of air stuttered out his nostrils, his mouth betraying him as it cracked into a wide grin. She was more composed at least, but she bit her lip to no avail; a scoff of a chuckle escaped her anyway._
> 
> _There was nothing amusing about the situation. Two strangers, who knew each other more intimately than they knew themselves, trekking across the continent with no idea where they were headed. No idea who they were to each other anymore, but_ still _._
> 
>   
>  _Still._  
>    
> 
> 
> _He hadn't known he could laugh like this still. From the tears in her eyes, he had a feeling she thought the same of herself._
> 
> _They laughed loudly into the night air, their heads thrown back as if to mock the stars themselves for weaving their paths so tumultuously. For forcing them apart, only to force them together again over, and over. For reminding them of their most sacred moments, all shared under the light of a thousand constellations.  
>    
>  _
> 
> _For making strangers out of lovers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments appreciated, as always!
> 
> i know this chapter seems like it's just pure filler (which it is oops) BUT writing them bonding?? writing brotherly jaime?? writing stickler-for-rules brienne letting loose with cheeky and provocative jaime?? writing goldenhand and the blue knight fanfic WITHIN the fic itself?? there's truly nothing better or more meta!
> 
> i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy x


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